Still beating.

One thing I’ve been learning to do as a writer* is heed the images that present themselves to me without my asking, and worry about the “why” later, or sometimes, never. I know I know why. And I reject the delusion that I’m so special, no one else will understand. If the image was imminent enough that it surfaced in my mind, chances are it will resonate with plenty of others. Those with whom it doesn’t might at least be intrigued enough to consider why someone else might have the thought (which saves me the trouble of telling them), and those who aren’t even intrigued have no business enjoying art anyway. Just kidding. Continue reading “On Writing”→

We stretched the Fourth of July into a three-day marathon of quality time with quality friends this year, and the occasion once again served as a reminder that America is The Greatest Country in the World, but only if it happens to contain a micro-world composed of loved ones and personal memories and neat things that happens to mean more to you than any of those found in other countries. Continue reading “Bombs Bursting”→

I saw a man turning left in his car last week, and it unsettled me because he made the turn while barking. Barking over and over out the window. Not like a dog barking; it was a strange vocalization almost like a sneeze, like, “Aff! Aff! Aff! Aff!” But I tell you, those were no sneezes. They were barks.

He still bothered to use his winker, which around here is an overachievement.

I was on Twitter on my laptop at Peet’s coffee that morning, relaying to the human race an irreverent thought I’d had about the Peet’s playlist (“Of all the Ramones songs!”) when I saw that William Gibson, the Father of Cyberpunk, had retweeted the following question from a fellow author: “Are there any snake venoms that don’t kill you, but just get you high? Asking for a fictional friend.”

Neuromancer! When I set out to read this book, I feared that maybe I would be too late to the party–that the elements once thought prophetic would now seem quaint, that William Gibson’s groundbreaking vision would fail to land an impact after so many decades of imitation and iteration. I’ve consumed a lot of cyberpunk in my time, and this book predates pretty much all of it, save for Blade Runner. And as much as I still like (one specific version of) Blade Runner, the book which was its basis, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?–did strike me as both quaint and low-impact when I got around to reading it in 2015. I mean, electric sheep? Please come on.

There I was at Peet’s Coffee, pondering ways that I might complain on Twitter about my overall Peet’s Coffee experience, were I to complain on Twitter, which I wasn’t. My Peet’s experience had once again had been sub-par, even for this part of the peninsula.

For about two weeks, this CD-R had been sitting on our front stoop, exposed to the elements. On days when I ventured outside (no longer a guarantee any given day), I was sure to walk right by it. Continue reading “CD-R”→